


And the Past Comes Back

by ArgoLane



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis Rose Being a Good Sister, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief homophobia, Canon Compliant, David Rose POV, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moira and Johnny Cameo, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Post-Series, Romance, Sad Patrick, Schitt's Creek Characters pop up here and there, Showers, minor language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgoLane/pseuds/ArgoLane
Summary: David and Patrick's relationship is put to the test when Rachel's brother shows up at their store and attacks Patrick, opening up old wounds. David finds a way to get his husband through this.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 67
Kudos: 290





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, everyone. 
> 
> I do want to warn you guys that there is brief instances of homophobia and homophobic slurs in the beginning of this story and later on some depictions of anxiety symptoms and panic attacks. 
> 
> I've enjoyed writing this and preparing this for you all (I've edited and re-edited so many times to get it just right) and since I've got most of it done I'll be releasing chapters every other day or so. Also since I'm somewhat pantsing this, I want to keep a good backlog of chapters in case I need to go back and change something. Originally I wasn't going to post this until it was done but I realized I was going to be editing at that point anyway so...here we are! I hope you all enjoy!

David turned the last lock in the door as he and Patrick made their way into the store to follow their normal opening routine. Setting down both of their coffees, David got the lights on and started booting up the register, while Patrick made his way into the back room to start doing inventory.

It was a rainy day in Schitt’s Creek; the kind that casts the day in a blueish haze that makes it feel like it was nighttime. David notoriously hated rainy days, but he knew Patrick had a weird affinity for them. He recalled that particular conversation, remembering how Patrick made his case for staying indoors with a cup of coffee, listening to the thunder and rain outside and settling in to watch a favorite TV show.

But it was a Wednesday, so the store came first. David was just about to flip around the closed sign when he received a text from Stevie.

**Stevie: _I’m omw to the store. Gotta talk to you and Patrick._**

David furrowed his eyebrows, texting back a quick ‘ok’. He made his way to the back room, holding up the phone for Patrick, “So…Stevie just sent me this.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Hm…any idea what she wants?”

David shook his head, “Unclear. But knowing Stevie it could _literally_ be anything, so…”

Within ten minutes, the bell above the door rang.

“Hey.” Stevie said curtly.

David looked at her questioningly, “Hi. You look…flustered?”

“I am.”

Stevie’s tone was concrete, serious. David glanced over at Patrick and then back to her, “Are you, uh…is everything ok?”

She sighed, “Well, I was gonna call you earlier, but I didn’t know how early you guys get here before opening so I thought I’d just come over.”

“What’s going on, Stevie?” David said, an ounce of anxiety creeping into his chest.

She collected herself, wringing her hands together, “So, you remember Rachel…?”

“Patrick’s Rachel?” David asked.

Stevie nodded, “Yeah, um…what’s her last name?”

“Kramer. Rachel Kramer. Why?”

“Thought so. Does she, um… have, like, a brother, or…?”

“Grant?” Patrick offered.

Stevie nodded again, “Mm-hm, yeah, that would be him.”

“What about him?” David asked impatiently.

“He um…he checked into the motel last night.”

David felt himself do a second take, “He? Checked into the motel?”

Stevie nodded again, “He…”

“Wh-why, why is he here? Patrick?”

Patrick shrugged, “No clue. I haven’t spoken to him since Rachel and I broke things off.”

“He apparently asked one of my employees working the night shift when Rose Apothecary opens. They texted me this morning about it and I saw in the log that he was checked in.”

“Oh, my _god_ ,” David moaned. “Why is he coming here, I mean, what does he want?”

“I think it’s obvious.” Patrick piped up, clearing his throat. “He’s probably gonna come here and give me shit about Rachel.”

“But that happened years ago at this point,” Stevie said, “why now?”

“I have no idea.”

“Ok,” David interjected, “ _this_ is not good. I-do we call the cops? I don’t-”

But David’s words were cut off by a loud knocking on the glass door. A man stood in the door, smiling and making gestures towards his watch. David gave a quick look at the ornate clock that hung on the opposite wall: **9:04**. They were meant to have opened the store already.

“That would be him.” Patrick said simply.

Stevie looked like she was doing her very best not to move. “What do we do?”

“I still have that taser under the counter,” David said through bated breath, trying his best not to catch the man’s attention, “You stall him, and I’ll come from behind-”

“David, let him in.” Patrick said.

“ _What?”_ David and Stevie gasped in unison.

“Let him in,” he said resolutely “We can’t ignore him all day. Just-” Patrick gestured at the door.

David looked back and forth between him and Stevie before finally giving up. He threw up his hands and briskly went to open the door.

He nodded politely as Grant walked in, avoiding eye contact with him. The tall man handed David his soaked umbrella, to which David took by two fingers and laid it against the wall near the door.

David couldn’t help but notice how put-together he looked, his brain quickly picking out the luxury items and accoutrements; an expensive Armani watch, a put-together two-piece beige suit that could rival even his father’s wardrobe, with pristinely polished black shoes that David could only describe as ‘New-York-high-end’. His hair also looked extremely styled, in David’s opinion almost too styled (he made a mental note to himself not to ignite an open flame near this man’s head.)

“Patrick!” Grant yelled jovially, making Stevie and David jump. His voice echoed reverberantly off the walls.

“Hey, Grant.” Patrick said cautiously, “What’re you doing here?”

“What, I can’t come visit an old friend at the store he owns? What a businessman!” he said, a smile still plastered on his face. He took a long, dramatic survey of the room. “Where do you _get_ all of this stuff?”

“It’s all locally sourced.” Patrick said curtly.

“Locally sourced…” Grant nodded impressively, “You know it’s the funniest thing…” He picked up a candle from the main counter and passively looked at it, “I saw one of your stores pop up in New York and I recognized your name under the little biography section in the window: ‘Patrick Brewer’. I did some digging and found that the original store was here. In _Schitt’s Creek_. The name alone made me want to vomit” He started laughing again, making David incrementally more uncomfortable by the second.

“Can I help you find anything, sir?” David piped up, trying to keep his voice steady.

Grant stared David down for what felt like an eternity. He chuckled softly and turned back to Patrick, “So that’s him, huh? The _boyfriend_.” He eyed David, giving him the look over.

David suddenly felt very insecure, “ _Husband_ , actually. David Rose.” He held out a hand but Grant made no move to shake it, instead walking away from him and closer to Patrick.

“Grant, if you’re not here to buy something then I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” Patrick said, a boldness underlining his voice.

“Well, I’m not here to buy anything.” Grant shrugged. “Just came here to clear up some things. I was curious.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, “About?”

“About what kind of store my fag ex-brother in law was running.”

David suddenly felt a rush of anger and adrenaline, “HEY! None of that!” Grant barely took notice of him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it. It was there all along,” he said wagging his finger at Patrick like he was telling off a child who had been caught red-handed, “I can’t believe I let my little sister fall for an in-the-closet _queer_. What a fucking joke.”

“Stevie, call the cops,” David strode around the other side of the countertop until he was inches away from Grant’s face, “I would leave before you do something you’ll regret. I’m finding it _very hard_ to imagine you lasting in prison for very long.” Grant only laughed in his face, making David wince as he felt a speck of spit hit in chin.

“You think I’m intimidated by you, faggot?” Grant sneered.

“Ok, if ‘faggot’ and ‘queer’ is the best you can come up with, then you’ll probably go down as one of _the_ most pathetically forgettable homophobes that I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, as I’ve been called far worse.” David retorted without missing a beat.

David felt a hand on his shoulder, and he let Patrick nudge him aside. “It’s ok, David. Stevie?”

“Yeah, uh, cops are on their way.” Stevie said from the corner of the store.

Patrick folded his arms, “Good. I think it’s time you leave, Grant.”

“And I think it’s time you apologize.” Grant said with a false smile.

“Apologize for what?” David could hear Patrick’s voice getting tighter by the second.

“For leaving my sister, you fucking prick.”

“Rachel and I separated on good terms.”

“Oh, please, I know she came here last year and tried to win you back.” Grant sniped.

“Yeah, but we talked, and I explained to her the situation. I’m in love with _David_. Not her. Whatever we had before is gone.” Patrick said, glancing over to David for a split second, as if to invigorate himself. “You need to go.”

Grant stepped even closer to Patrick, making David inch closer instinctively. He leaned in closer and whispered in Patrick’s ear. “You’re fucking nothing, Brewer.”

David was having a hard time trying to figure out what to do. Somewhere in his brain, a voice was telling him to somehow attack the man who was shamelessly insulting his husband, but David knew that even if he could bring himself to do it, assaulting a customer (even if Grant was currently the farthest thing from that) could only make things worse. Patrick also wouldn’t be happy with him even if it was to defend him. He could try and intimidate Grant and try to get him to leave again but it felt like that ship had sailed.

Thankfully he didn’t have to make a decision because in that moment, the bell above the door rang once again and a police officer came sauntering in. She glared at Patrick and Grant, who were standing mere centimeters from each other’s faces, “Everything ok here, folks?”

David could see Grant give Patrick a small smile, a smile that read ‘ _you got lucky this time’_. Grant turned and gave the police officer a toothy grin, throwing his hands up almost playfully, “Nothing to worry about, officer. Just wanted to, uh…” he gestured towards Patrick, “wanted to catch up with an old friend here. I’m on my way out, anyways. Gotta hit the road back to NYC.”

David watched Patrick closely, who looked like he was doing his very best not to lose it as he gave the officer a small affirmative smile. 

Grant made his way to the front of the store to leave, grabbing his umbrella, but not before he gave one last look at David and Patrick and said, “Rooting for you two.”

The police officer escorted him out and with another jingle of the door, the three of them were left in the store with a heavy tension poisoning the air.

Patrick was frozen to his spot at the back of the store, his gaze stuck on the door. David glanced at Stevie, at a loss for what to do or say. All she could offer was a look of befuddlement.

David cleared his throat, “Um…well, that was…”

Stevie or Patrick didn’t respond. David took a couple of steps towards his husband, “Are you…are you ok?”

But Patrick seemed to be in another world entirely. David closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Honey…?”

David’s hand seemed to jolt Patrick back to earth because he jumped a little at his touch. It was then that David realized that Patrick’s eyes were glassy with tears. Patrick looked down at his shoes, and cleared his throat, “I’m gonna uh…I’m gonna go do the inventory.”

And with his head held down, Patrick disappeared into the back room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did they ever give Rachel an in-canon last name by the way?
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> ArgoLane xx


	2. Chapter 2

He replayed the confrontation in his head over and over; Grant’s unabashed prejudice, his creepy well-mannered behavior to them at first, the rush of adrenaline when he went toe to toe with him. David had had his fair share of unfortunate run-ins with many, many Grants in the past and had been out for most of his life (but he wasn’t really met with unfiltered, blatant homophobia until his 20’s). It was a regrettable reality, but he had thick skin for stuff like that.

But Patrick had only been out for a couple of years and thankfully no one in Schitt’s Creek had anything to say about it. For all of its blemishes, the town was by far one of the most progressive and welcoming that David had ever seen.

David had seen him grow to become more and more comfortable with himself and his sexuality over the last two and a half years that they were together. And it was wonderful to watch him finally become the person he wanted to be. But _this_ , this was a major hiccup. Grant not only managed to bruise Patrick’s confidence with his sexuality, he also managed to drudge up the baggage of his falling out with Rachel.

Stevie came back in after explaining to the police officer what had happened. “So, she said that since Grant didn’t _do_ anything, they don’t really have any reason to lock him up or anything.”

“Seriously?” David said, lowering his voice to not catch Patrick’s ear, “That was basically a hate crime! The guy _waltzes_ into our store and _verbally assaults_ my husband and he just gets off like that? With nothing? Not even a fucking warning?”

“David, to them Grant was just a grumpy customer. Besides, without proof it was just a he-said- she-said.”

“Well, let’s show them the cameras, we have security cameras!” David said, gesturing wildly at the ceiling, “We can show them what he said!”

Stevie folded her arms, “Do the cameras have audio?”

David looked at her with a look of disbelief, “How am I supposed to know that?”

“Well, the answer is no, they don’t. You can’t legally record someone’s voice without their permission. At least, that’s what the guy who was installing our security cameras at the motel told me. And even if you could, he didn’t actually assault anyone, they really don’t have anything on him, David.”

“Well, I don’t know…” David pressed his fingers against his temple, already feeling a tension headache setting in.

Stevie closed the gap between them and rested her hands on David’s shoulders, “You want my advice?” David nodded. “Forget him. He’s not worth getting worked up over. You heard what he said, he’s already on his way back to New York.”

“Are you-”

“ _Listen._ ” Stevie interrupted, fully familiar with David’s penchant for unabashedly interrupting a conversation. “Take the day off. I mean it, I’ve never seen Patrick like that. You guys need to go home, take it easy, and when _he’s_ ready…you guys should talk. Alright?”

David nodded, feeling himself getting quickly lost in his thoughts.

She checked the time on her phone, “I have to get back to the motel. C’mere…” She pulled David into a tight hug, “I’ll come by tomorrow if that’s ok?”

“Yeah, of course. Yeah.” David nodded, leaning into the hug.

“Ok. Love you.”

“Love you.”

They broke apart and Stevie gave one last comforting look before she made her way out.

David let out a heavy breath he felt like he had been holding in for one second too long, steeling himself before he walked into the hallway that led into the back room.

Patrick had his back to the door, clipboard in hand as he counted their stock and occasionally marked down the inventory for the day. If David had just gotten to the store after Grant had left, he wouldn’t have noticed anything wrong or out of place. But on the other hand, Patrick trying to continue the day as if nothing had happened was very in character for him, David thought. He suddenly started doubting whether trying to get Patrick to talk about what had happened was a good idea or not.

“Hey.” David half-whispered.

“What’s up?” Patrick said, not diverting his attention from the shelves.

“Um, do you…want to close early?”

“We just opened David, you want to close already?” Patrick said in what David noticed was a steely, neutral tone.

David shook his head, “I mean like, take the day off. After…all of _that_.”

“No, no,” said Patrick pleasantly, “I’m okay to keep working.”

“Ok, can you just turn around and look at me for one second?”

With a small pause, Patrick set down the clipboard and turned around to face David, his hands settling on his hips. He shrugged, “What’s the problem?”

“Ok,” David continued, “if you’re not up to work today then let’s just go home. We’re doing good this month. Really good actually. We can afford a day off if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Patrick stood there, silent. David went on, “ _That_ ,” he said motioning generally to the main floor, “was a very stressful situation and I don’t want you here working if you’re not up for it.”

“David, I’m ok, really.”

“Ok, how long have we been married?”

“9 months.”

“And how long have we known each other before that?”

“Year and a half.”

“And do we still think that lying about how we’re actually feeling to each other is a feasible tactic at this point, or…?” David said smiling quizzically, trying to ease the tension that still permeated in the air.

Patrick seemed to give up and his gaze wandered around the room. It was one of his telltale signs of anxiety that David knew all too well. He strode across the room and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist from behind, nestling his chin in the nook of Patrick’s shoulder, “Let’s go home. I know how you like to stay in on rainy days.”

He could feel how tense Patrick was and decided then that he couldn’t back down, knowing that he himself would have a hard time working throughout the day without replaying that confrontation in his head and _also_ wondering if Patrick was actually ok.

After what felt like forever, Patrick finally gave him a small nod.

The two of them locked up in silence. Shutting off the lights, turning off the register, and flipping around the closed sign. David threw away their coffees, which were now cold, making a mental note to brew a pot when they got back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this has a happy ending? I feel like I need to emphasize this has a happy ending.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive home was silent. David had offered to drive while Patrick mostly stared out the window for the ride home, watching the rain continuing to downpour over the town. As they were driving through the town, David couldn’t help but glance at the motel as they drove by, like he usually did. It was an impulse, and he somehow found himself comforted by the fact that it was still there, reminding him of those three _very_ eventful years of his life. He found himself almost missing it every once and awhile. He’s sure it was because he missed his family and _not_ because of the dirty teal walls and uncomfortable beds, but he missed it all the same.

But this time, he focused on the motel parking lot to see if he could make out any expensive sports vehicles or whatever other supremely pretentious cars Grant might drive. Yet, apart from Stevie’s small red car and a couple of other vehicles scattered around the lot, he didn’t see anything. He must’ve been telling the truth when he said he had to get back to New York, something that offered David just an ounce of comfort. 

David parked in the driveway but neither of them made to move and get out of the car. The sound of rain continuing to hammer on the windows surrounded them. David reached out and interlaced his hand with Patrick’s, his thumb rubbing small circles on the top of his hand affectionately. To his content, Patrick softly squeezed his hand back.

“Just so I know where you’re at…” David said, breaking the silence between them. Patrick shifted his gaze down to their interlocked fingers, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Patrick let out a heavy sigh, squeezing David’s hand a little more, “I don’t know. I’m still a little…um…”

“Shaken?” said David with encouragement.

“I guess. I just…that’s just not what I was expecting coming in to work this morning,” he said, letting out a humorless chuckle.

David nodded, “Understandable. Hey,” He brushed a finger against Patrick’s cheek to get his attention, “let’s go inside. I’ll make us some fresh coffee. Ok?”

Patrick gave David the smallest smile and nodded.

They trudged inside, shaking the soaking wet umbrella and settling it into its holder. The charm of the small cottage that they had bought together had failed to wear off even after almost half a year of them living there. David could remember how the novelty of buying a new place in New York or LA before he’d move to Schitt’s Creek would wear off fairly quickly—mostly due to the fact that he was hardly ever there despite calling it a ‘live-work space’.

But the house was different. Moving in, Patrick had to almost immediately rein in David to prevent him from covering the house from head to toe in his trademark black and white minimalist aesthetic. There were definitely splashes and highlights of that, but after much back and forth and compromise, the house ended up reflecting both of their tastes and personalities fairly equally.

Patrick slumped onto the couch and kicked off his shoes while David made a beeline for the kitchen and set about filling up the pot with water and pouring in the coffee grounds. The first couple of drips of coffee started to fill up the pot when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

**Alexis: _Call me_**

At first, David owed it to Alexis’ supernatural ability to sense when something had happened or something was wrong, but it didn’t take long for David to connect the dots. Stevie probably already told Alexis what had happened. His phone vibrated a second time:

**Alexis: _Not around Patrick_**

Yep. Stevie told her.

It’s not like David was going to attempt to keep this a secret. But Alexis’ second text made him question that. _Should_ he keep it a secret? For Patrick’s sake? Even though Patrick admitted that he was shaken (he might as well have) David could tell there was still a lot that they needed to talk about.

David eyed Patrick from the kitchen, who was currently scrolling through the Netflix catalog on their television. He made some excuse to use the bathroom and made his way up the stairs to their bedroom, shutting the door behind him quietly. Alexis picked up on the second ring—

_“Is Patrick there?”_

“Ok, _hi._ And no, he’s downstairs.”

_“Ok, well, I just wanted to check on you. Stevie said some guy showed up at your store this morning and like…told Patrick he was a…”_

“Yeah, yeah. He did.”

 _“Oh my_ god _, David. Is Patrick ok?”_

“He’s…” David eyed the door, “I don’t really know. He’s kind of shaken up a bit.”

 _“I mean, yeah, that makes sense but like, how is he_ doing _?”_

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re asking,”

_“Have you guys not talked about it?”_

“Not really. I’m just, you know, trying to give him some space. We closed the store early and went home for the day, so we’re just gonna decompress.”

_“And so…this was Rachel’s uncle, or…?”_

“Mm, brother. And on top of the rampant homophobia he was _exceptionally_ creepy.”

_“Creepy, how?”_

“Like, he was smiling and laughing the next minute and throwing slurs around the next. The man’s a sociopath.” 

_“Ew, yeah, giant red flag.”_

“You think?”

_“You don’t think Rachel had something to do with this, do you?”_

The thought had never even occurred to David. _Did_ Rachel have something to do with it?

“Do _you?_ ” he asked in a hushed whisper.

_“I mean, I don’t know it’s a possibility isn’t it? Like what if she did this for revenge or something? I have her phone number if you want to find out.”_

“Why would I…wait, how do you have her phone number?”

_“Well, remember that one time when we were having a barbeque at the motel and Rachel kind of like, crashed it?”_

“If I remember correctly _you_ invited her.”

_“Yeah, anyway, earlier that day we met in the office at the motel and there was something going on with Ted and a bagel and like-”_

“Ok, fast forward please,” David interrupted.

_“We just traded phone numbers because I meant to keep her updated with the whole Ted thing, and I think I still have it if you want it.”_

“What would I even say? Like, ‘Hi, your homophobic brother came into my store and called my husband a fag, do you know anything about this possibly?’”

 _“I don’t know, David_. _All I’m saying is that I think it’s weird that this Grant guy drove all that way to just call Patrick some names, it feels like there’s something else going on. This is exactly like when I was in England with Colin Firth and some Secret Service agents from Buckingham Palace came to our penthouse in Edinburgh and-”_

“Ok, you’re being dramatic. There’s no _conspiracy_ going on, Alexis. All I know is that he better not show up again.”

_“Ok, ok. Fair enough. I didn’t mean to stress you out.”_

David sighed, “You didn’t, I’m just worried.”

_“How about I just send you her phone number in case you need it? Like, just in case you and Patrick talk and decide you want to know.”_

“He probably has her number, Alexis.”

_“Mm, from what I remember, Rachel told me he changed his number a couple of times so actually he might not. Just in case, David…”_

“Ugh, ok, fine, send the stupid number. I’ve got to go.”

_“Alright. Well, I hope he’s doing ok. Keep me updated?”_

“Yeah. Yeah. I will.”

_“Promise?”_

David rolled his eyes and smiled, “Promise.”

He made his way downstairs to see that Patrick was pouring the coffee into two black mugs. He handed David his with a soft, “Here you go,” and made his way back to the living room to sit cross legged on the couch. His phone buzzed for a third time as David took a small sip—

**Alexis: Contact: _Rachel 443-…_**

He quickly swiped the notification off of his phone, deciding that involving Rachel was an idea that they didn’t need to entertain yet.

He followed Patrick into the living room, wrapping an arm around him and resting his head on his shoulder as Patrick continued to absentmindedly scroll through the Netflix catalog.

*******

The rain finally stopped around 9pm. The two of them spent the majority of the day binging episode after episode of Criminal Minds. David had no opinion of the show when Patrick finally settled on it, but after watching half a season David found himself slowly become invested, regaling Patrick about the various guest stars that he’d either met or hooked up with in the past.

And he had to hand it to Patrick; staying in and sipping coffee while it rained and thundered outside was surprisingly soothing. David sat behind Patrick as he laid against his chest while David ran his fingers through his husband’s hair, a favorite cuddling position for them. When lunchtime rolled around, David rummaged through their fridge and made them both grilled cheese with sliced tomato. Despite the fact that David had to Google ‘how to know when grilled cheese is grilled’, they were surprisingly delicious, so much so that they ended up having more sandwiches for dinner as well.

Patrick was mostly quiet and David could tell that he kept slipping into deep thought, having to nudge him to get his attention every time the **“Continue Watching?”** prompt came up on the screen every three or four episodes. He also noticed Patrick clenching his jaw from time to time, another telltale sign that David had trained himself to look out for.

It was just after they finished their second course of grilled cheese sandwiches when David’s phone rang.

Patrick handed it to him, “It’s your Dad.”

_“Hey there, son! Can you hear me ok?”_

“Yeah, hi, I can hear you.” There was some background noise, but he could still make out his dad’s voice, who was speaking into the phone with a slightly raised voice. “Where are you?”

_“Oh, your mother and I are in San Diego at the Sunrise Bay wrap party, but...listen, I was just calling to make sure you and--”_

_“Is that David?”_ said a familiar voice in the background.

 _“Yes, honey, it’s David,”_ Johnny said, _“Do you wanna…”_

David heard a rustling noise and then his mother’s voice blared from his phone, _“David? David, can you hear me?”_

He winced, “Oh my god, yes, yes, I can hear you.”

Patrick looked over at him and mouthed, “Is that your mom?”

David nodded and made a motion with his hand to suggest that she had probably had one too many drinks.

Moira’s voice continued to spill loudly from his phone, _“Well hello, you! And dear Patrick, where is dear Pat? Am I on the speaker? Put me on the speaker.”_

He rolled his eyes, putting the phone on speaker and holding it out in front of him between him and Patrick, “Ok, you’re on speaker.”

_“Marvelous. Well, your father and I wanted to call you both because we know the two of you must be quite perturbed by this morning’s affairs and we called to assure you that this felonious malefactor will be brought! To! Justice!”_

_“Yeah, Alexis told us everything that happened!”_ Johnny’s voice echoed in the background.

_“We have a virtual armada of lawyers at our disposal and they will be looking very closely into the circumstances of this witless incursion. We promise you both that justice will prevail!”_

Patrick cleared his throat, “Well, I really appreciate that Mrs. Rose, but that won’t be necessary.”

David considered him, a little surprised. But on the other hand, he supposed that it didn’t really shock him that Patrick had no intention to seek any kind of legal retribution.

Moira seemed just as confused, _“Sorry, dear. Say again?”_

“I said I really appreciate it, Mrs. Rose,” raising his voice and leaning closer to the phone, “but I’m not looking to press charges or anything.”

_“Well, are you quite sure you’ve given that decision enough contemplation? Everard and Lois are some of the most renowned and feared litigators in the business—"_

Johnny’s voice popped in again, _“Well, Moira, if he doesn’t want to press charges then he doesn’t want to press charges.”_

David cleared his throat, sensing that this was going downhill fast, “Ok, we’re gonna hang up now. Thanks so much!”

_“Alright then, dear, we’ll talk soon.”_

_“Ok, we’ll talk to you later, son. Have a good night!”_

David hung up the phone, gingerly setting it down on the coffee table face down. Patrick cleared his throat, “That was…sweet.”

David nodded, “Yeah, um…do you…really not want to do anything?”

“What do you mean?” said Patrick.

“I mean, like…do you really not want to press charges?”

“What charges are there to press?”

“Well, we can put down one for verbal assault, can we not?”

“He didn’t _verbally assault_ me, David, he was just running his mouth and trying to scare me.”

“He wasn’t just…running his mouth, he was _harassing_ you.”

“David, it was a one-time thing!”

“I’m sorry, but…” David stood up and started to pace, “Patrick, he practically threatened you, it was basically a hate crime! I mean, I feel like I’m the only one that’s reacting like a human being! How do we know he won’t come back with some of his buddies and vandalize the store or something?”

The living room was suddenly filled with the same tension that Grant left in the store, as if the mention of what happened was enough to recreate the exact same atmosphere. Patrick dropped his gaze away from David to the floor, interlocking his fingers in thought.

“David, can we not do this tonight?”

“Do what?”

“ _This_. Please.”

David saw the pained expression on Patrick’s face and was immediately and suddenly overcome with guilt. “I’ve just messed things up, haven’t I…”

“No, babe. No, you didn’t mess anything up.”

“I don’t mean to sound patronizing, I really don’t. I’m just trying to understand where you’re at with this so I can _help_ you.”

“I get it. I really do. This is a conversation we need to have just…not tonight. I still need to process everything that happened.”

David sat back down next to him, resting a hand on his knee, “You’re right. You’re fucking right, I’m sorry. It’s just hard seeing you like this. And I’m sorry, I didn’t know Stevie was gonna tell Alexis what happened, I just—"

“What are you talking about?”

David sighed, “I didn’t know if you wanted to keep it a secret or—"

“It’s fine, David. I don’t mind. There’s no harm if people know. If anything, it might even boost sales,” Patrick said with a wry chuckle.

“That’s funny,” said David, quite humorlessly.

Patrick held a finger under David’s chin and kissed him gently. “I just need time to figure things out. Ok? It’s not you, at all. I promise.”

“Promise…” David whispered. His mind went to the number that Alexis sent him this morning.

“It’s late. Let’s get to bed, ok?” Patrick said.

David nodded absentmindedly as Patrick cleared the dishes from the coffee table and started turning off the lights before both of them made their way upstairs to the master bedroom.

David was about to start his nine-step nightly skincare regimen until his attention turned to Patrick, who was already changing into his pajamas. An idea came to him. He walked over to the shower, ran the hot water and let the bathroom fill with steam.

“Hey,” he walked over to Patrick, “come take a shower with me.”

Patrick cocked his head, “Why…?”

“Because.” David said smiling.

“David, I don’t think I’m up for—”

David shook his head, “That’s not what I’m asking. Just trust me.”

Patrick sighed softly, giving in as David took his hand and led him into the bathroom.

David slowly worked off what was left of his and Patrick’s clothes and tossed them in the cloth-knit hamper. He pulled back the shower curtain, “After you.”

Patrick grinned sheepishly and stepped into the shower, with David quickly following suite. They stood under the hot water together, owing it to the large rainfall showerhead that David practically forced Patrick to buy when they moved in. He wrapped his arms around Patrick and pulled him into a kiss, laying a hand against his husband’s cheek affectionately. David was happy to notice that Patrick was kissing him back.

“Turn around.” David whispered.

He reached behind him and poured a generous dollop of Patrick’s teakwood shampoo into his hands, rubbing them together. He took his time, working the shampoo onto his shoulders, down the length of his arms, and then over Patrick’s back, making small circles with his fingers where David felt the most tension in his muscles. It seemed to work as Patrick let out a small sigh of relief.

“Since when did you know how to give a massage?” Patrick asked.

“Um, I once dated a masseur in LA, and she used to give me these at-home massages all the time until I found out she was stealing things from my apartment when my back was turned. Literally.”

Patrick let out a tame laugh, a laugh that made David smile, “You’re pretty tense. I thought this would help.”

Patrick nodded. “It does.”

David embraced Patrick from behind, working more of the shampoo across his chest and abdomen. Patrick let his head fall back against David’s shoulder, his eyes closed as the hot water washed away the smoky-smelling body wash. For a while, they stood there together letting the hot water cascade down their bodies as steam continued to fill the bathroom. David felt that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t let Patrick go. He couldn’t let him sink into those thoughts that he knew he had been lost in for most of the day.

“I love you.” Patrick whispered, breaking the silence between them.

David could hear the crack in his voice. He held Patrick tighter and planted a small kiss on his shoulder.

“I love you.” David whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing for Alexis and Moira is so much fun. (Also that shower scene was a last minute addition. I really wanted a scene that helped them reconnect a little bit after Patrick spent most of the day kind of out of it.) 
> 
> Comments, kudos appreciated!!
> 
> ArgoLane xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: panic attacks, description of anxiety symptoms

David could feel himself slowly coming to, but the bedroom was still dark. There were no sounds of chirping birds outside like there normally was in the morning. Only the soft glow from a streetlamp down the block percolated through their curtains into the room. He glanced sleepily at the alarm clock on his bedside table: **2:48am**

There was a noise in the room. Faint, but there. He was ready to dismiss it until he realized it sounded like someone was in their room, whispering something to him.

Chills went down his spine as David sat up quickly, squinting in the dark and feeling exceptionally freaked out, still not fully awake. He rummaged around until he found the lamp next to his bed and flipped it on, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as light filled the room. He took a quick survey of the room, but there was nothing there. When he turned to try and wake Patrick, he suddenly realized where the noise was coming from.

Patrick’s face was furiously scrunched up, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. His breathing was heavy and labored while his fists were clutching the sheets and his pillow. He was muttering something under his breath, but David couldn’t make it out.

Trying to wake up a little more, he rubbed Patrick’s arm slowly and tried to coax him to wake up, “Patrick,” he said softly, “Patrick, wake up. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Patrick’s eyes were still clenched shut, and his breathing seemed to be getting even heavier and faster. His fidgeting was slowly becoming even more erratic and a whining noise came out of his mouth, “No, no, no, no, no.”

David was starting to panic himself, at a loss for what to do. He climbed behind Patrick and hoisted his body up into a sitting position, snaking his arms around his middle and cradling him as he whispered into his ear, “Wake up, honey. Patrick. Wake up. You have to wake up. Come on, you’re ok, you’re ok. I got you, you’re ok, Patrick. Wake up.”

Patrick’s arms were pinned to his chest, as if he was freezing. David held onto him as his chest heaved up and down while Patrick continued muttering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, quickly and harshly like it was a life-saving mantra.

And then with a jolt as if from an electric shock, Patrick woke up with a shout.

“What? What-” Patrick shouted in between heavy breaths, arms flailing in David’s grip.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s ok. It’s me, you’re ok, it’s me,” David said.

“Dav-, what?” His breathing became even more labored, “I—I can’t—David, I can’t—"

“Ok, you need to breathe. Just breathe, come on. In and out with me through your nose, that’s it. In…and out…In…”

Patrick followed his lead, trying to sync up his breathing with David’s until he calmed down. David held on tight, anchoring him and trying to regulate his breathing and pounding heart until eventually, Patrick’s breathing returned to normal. “Are you ok?” David asked.

He nodded.

“Nightmare?”

Patrick held onto one of the arms that David had wrapped around him, “I’m…I’m sorry, I woke you-I don’t-”

“Mm-mm, nothing to apologize for, its ok,” said David.

Patrick took another heavy sigh before nodding again, letting David know he got the message.

“Do you want to talk about it?” David whispered. He waited for a response, but the silence was enough of an answer for him.

Patrick looked down at his shirt and noticed that he was drenched in sweat. “I have to, uh—" he murmured, pointing to the bathroom door. David nodded and watched him as he shakily got up from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

David laid back down, listening to the shower run behind the closed door. There was a part of him that wanted to go in there, to join him and hold him under the hot water but there was something that was keeping him there. David knew that if the tables were turned then he wouldn’t want people in his space after something like that.

There was no question in David’s mind that whatever he was dreaming about it had something to do with Rachel. The fervent ‘I’m sorry’s rang in his head, and David knew that Patrick was grappling with a part of his past that David was neither knowledgeable about nor present for. Patrick was going through a whole other roller coaster of emotions that if David dived too deep into, he wouldn’t be sure that he could handle staying in that bed.

All he knew about Patrick and Rachel was that they were high-school sweethearts who were on and off for quite some time until Patrick finally broke off their engagement. It was only then did David realize that he didn’t really know more about the circumstances around that situation or even the aftermath that ensued. How did his family react? Did he move to Schitt’s Creek solely to get away from all of that? If so, how did that affect his other relationships with people back in his hometown?

More and more questions flooded his brain until David realized he was asking the wrong ones. What he needed to be asking himself was how he was going to get them through this. The conversation they had before going to bed came to his mind and it slowly dawned on David that he had unintentionally put Patrick in a position that he didn’t intend to. Was David upset and confused about what happened in their store? Yes, of course. But he got frustrated with Patrick. Unreasonably so. And for what? For not talking about something he wasn’t ready to talk about? For not reacting the way he, David, would react? David made Patrick support _him_ when it should’ve been the other way around.

It was a decision that came quickly and easily: he wouldn’t push the topic anymore. He had to give Patrick the space and time to process everything. The last thing he needed to do was to open old wounds and push him into an uncomfortable topic that he wasn’t ready to discuss.

After what felt like hours, David slowly began to fade as the sound of the running water from their shower slowly turned into white noise that lulled him back into a dreamless sleep. 

***

David awoke again, this time to a sun-filled room and the sound of the chirping birds outside. He realized by glancing at the clock next to his bed that his alarm wasn’t meant to go off for another ten minutes before he had to get up and start the day.

There was a small pit in his stomach that David was all too familiar with, like an old friend that pops in at extremely inconvenient times. Truth be told, ever since he and Patrick had moved into the house, his anxiety had been the lowest it had ever been. Even the stress of moving in wasn’t enough to make it spike, as David’s gallery-owning tendencies had taken the lead of directing where boxes and pieces of furniture went (much to the dismay of the movers from the moving company.)

David rolled over and took in the sight of Patrick lying next to him, one arm under the pillow and the other wrapped around the comforter. David loved to watch Patrick sleep. Even more so now that Patrick had decided to grow his hair out a little so his natural curls were starting to come in, giving Patrick (in David’s words) a formidable, yet unrelentingly adorable case of bed head.

He was about to wake him before last night’s events resurfaced. If it wasn’t for the fact that Patrick was wearing a different pajama shirt than the one he went to bed with, David would almost be convinced that it was a bad dream. It was the first time that David had seen Patrick like that. And even though he knew fully well what it was like to wake up straight into a panic attack, it still worried him, nonetheless.

He brushed a curl out of his face and rested his hand on his cheek, something that he liked to do almost every morning (or at least every morning that he woke up before Patrick did). He remembered what he had promised himself: to give Patrick space and to be there when he’s ready. And he was gonna keep himself to that. He kissed Patrick’s forehead and slipped out of the bed quietly.

After getting showered and dressed, David made to leave for the door, looking at Patrick who was still softly asleep. He texted a quick message to him:

**_At the store. Wanted to let you sleep in. If you want to take the day off, I’ll see you for dinner. Love you._ **

***

David decided it was a nice enough morning to walk to the store, leaving the car to Patrick in case he wanted to go elsewhere during the day. It was only a 15-minute walk from their house to the store, and David had found he had grown accustomed to, maybe even fond of, the scenery that met him along the way.

Considering he was going to do the opening routine by himself, David decided to forgo his morning coffee run to the café. He also thought caffeine would do nothing to ease the anxiety that he woke up with this morning.

It wasn’t the first time David had to man the store alone by any means. But walking into the store after what had happened the day before was…different. David began to wonder if they could ever remove the invisible stain Grant had left in the store. Just walking by the spot where Patrick and Grant stood face to face was enough to remind him of what he was feeling in that moment: helplessness, anger, disbelief that this was happening _in their store_. But as he wiped down the counters and finished counting up the inventory, David decided that the only way he was going to get through the day was to actively try and forget what had happened.

Stevie came in minutes after the store had opened. She glanced over in the general direction of the back room, “Hey. Is he…?”

David shook his head, “I let him sleep in.”

Stevie nodded, resting her elbows on the counter, “How’s he doing?”

“Um…to be honest, not great,” said David wincing. “We tried talking about it before we went to bed last night but it was…obviously not the right time.”

“Did he get, like, defensive? Did you guys fight?” Stevie pressed.

“No, nothing like that,” David said, waving a hand dismissively” it was just…I just don’t think he’s processed everything yet.”

Stevie cocked her head, “Is he, like, playing it off as if nothing happened?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Stevie shrugged. “That seems pretty on brand for Patrick.”

“What do you mean?” David asked.

“I mean, for one thing he’s married to _you._ Patrick knows how to deescalate things, which is probably why he’s trying to pretend like nothing happened.”

David furrowed his eyebrows, “So…are you saying he’s trying to _deescalate_ the situation because of _me_?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Stevie said dismissively.

David muttered under his breath, “Kinda sounds like it.”

“Ok, do you remember your wedding? When it was raining and storming and we had to find a venue in like, not even half a day?”

“ _Very_ vividly.”

“When I say Patrick handled that like a _pro_ , I mean they could name an Olympic sport after what he did,” Stevie said.

“Ok, so…?” David asked impatiently.

“ _So,_ Patrick knows how to deal with stressful situations and find a quick solution, right? But this is different. What happened wasn’t a last-minute emergency or inconvenience.”

David nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’m not _not_ impressed by that evaluation of my husband because _all_ of that tracks. It’s just that…I don’t know what I’m supposed to be _doing_. I haven’t been in a relationship where, like, I’ve cared this much about the other person to feel _helpless_.”

Stevie raised an eyebrow, “You haven’t?”

David raised a bushier eyebrow back, “You have?”

Stevie rolled her eyes, “Ok, fair.”

“If it makes me look less like a bad person, they didn’t care about me much either,” David said quickly, “but, I mean, he woke up last night in a _full_ panic attack.”

Stevie’s jaw dropped ever so slightly, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” David said. “It was not fun.”

“Wow. This is really getting to him, then.”

David nodded grimly, “Yes, it is.”

“But apart from feeling helpless, how are _you_ doing?”

David pondered the question, “I mean, I’m nowhere near where Patrick is at. But last night did kind of shake me up, I guess.”

They were interrupted when the front door opened and Ronnie came in. To say that David was surprised to see her was a massive understatement, considering Ronnie had mostly avoided the store since the incident with the bathroom tiles.

“Hey,” she said shortly. “Sorry to barge in like this, I know you’re not used to seeing me.”

David shook his head, “Oh, not a problem at all. We are technically open, anyway, so…um, how can I—can I help you find something?”

Ronnie waved her hand dismissively, “I’m not here to shop. I’m here because I heard what had happened to you and Patrick yesterday.”

David digested that and nodded harshly, “And, uh…how did you find about that?”

“Well, Roland came in after his lunch break and told me he heard Stevie telling Alexis on the phone that some homophobe came up in your store and harassed you guys. Bob was just as shocked as I was, I mean who _here_ would do something like that?” she asked with exasperation.

“Oh, he wasn’t from here, “David said quickly. “He’s Patrick’s ex brother-in-law and he thankfully, lives in New York.”

“Well, good for him because if I ever see him walking down these streets, he’s got another thing coming. I’ve had my fair share of _confrontations_ , let’s say, so I know what it’s like. I mean, I know me and Patrick have some beef, but showing up like that and harassing people…it’s not right.”

David was pleasantly taken aback, especially since Patrick and Ronnie’s not-so-friendly rivalry had always been something he had hoped would one day fix itself. “Well…thank you, Ronnie.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. I just came here to try and smooth things over and let you guys know that…you know, we’re all here for you. And believe me, if this guy ever comes back again,” Ronnie leaned over the counter so only David could hear and spoke out of the corner of her mouth, “I know a guy.”

David’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded, not knowing whether to be amused or scared.

“Is Patrick here so I can talk to him?” Ronnie asked.

“Oh, um, not right now. I told him to take the day off.” said David.

Ronnie nodded, “Well, good…that’s good. You gotta take care of yourself after something like that. Good for him. Um…” She looked around at the products lining the counter and picked up a carton of body milk somewhat randomly, “I wanna buy this. Ring it up.”

David smiled appreciatively, “Sure thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much fun I have writing David's dialogue? Also, I HAD to bridge that gap between Patrick and Ronnie. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are not only appreciated, they are literally the ONLY thing keeping me going.
> 
> Jk, jk, jk...
> 
> ............unless?
> 
> ArgoLane xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry for the small hiatus, I'm actually in the process of moving! But don't worry, I'm still writing on my time off.  
> Enjoy!

The day went by fairly quickly, as the store seemed slightly busier than usual. Roland and Jocelyn came by just before his lunch break and offered similar words of support like Ronnie’s; Roland remarked on how bizarre it was to see a guy like Grant walking around their motel, telling David how Grant’s suit reminded him of having his dad around the motel again. Ray had also made an appearance in the middle of the afternoon and, from what David could tell, he too seemed very concerned about Patrick. He went on and on about how wonderful a roommate he was before he moved into the old apartment he used to share with David and how he missed having the two of them around. David wasn’t quite sure what to do with either pieces of information, but he thanked both Roland and Ray for the kind sentiments, nonetheless.

Gwen, some members of the Jazzagals (at least the ones David could recognize), Bob, and even Jake (whom they hadn’t seen since ditching his ‘massage circle’ party) had visited the store an hour or so before they closed. David couldn’t help but be amused at how quickly things spread in this town. But the dispersal of information in such a small town like Schitt’s Creek was something that he had grown accustomed to, and he found it one of the most unique aspects of living outside the city. David couldn’t help but feel touched by the widespread and unconditional support the community was showing them; it definitely wasn’t something David was used to.

As 6pm crept closer and closer, David felt like he could safely assume that Patrick had decided to take the full day off. Which is fine, David told himself. After all, he himself insisted that Patrick do so. But David couldn’t deny the fact that he was subconsciously hoping that Patrick was going to come through those front doors at some point.

David finished locking up the store, locking the doors behind him and setting out into the summer evening before catching sight of him.

“Hey, you.”

Patrick was walking down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, “Sorry I’m late.”

David smiled, taking this small joke as a sign that Patrick was feeling a little better, “Only by an entire workday.”

They hugged, planting a small kiss on each other as they did so. David, as he always did, inhaled the scent of Patrick’s cologne, noting that he had also just recently taken a shower. He rested his hands-on Patrick’s shoulders, “How was your day?”

“Boring. I just cleaned the house, mowed the lawn. Knocked off a couple of other things off the list of chores, including some of _yours_.” Patrick joked.

“Mm, I appreciate that. Truly.” David said sarcastically. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Turns out days off aren’t that great without you.”

“I’m flattered.”

Patrick cocked his head towards the café, now bearing the new large sign reading ‘ _Twyla’s Café’_ , “Dinner?”

David nodded vigorously, “Yes, please, I had to skip lunch.”

…

From the moment they entered, David was now fully convinced the entire population of Schitt’s Creek knew what happened. David noticed that he recognized a lot of the people in the café, having seen them in the store at various points during the day, as most of them were nodding respectively and/or offering looks of sympathy as he and Patrick made their way to their own table. Most sympathetic of all was Twyla’s manner when they sat down in one of the booths.

She gave them a winning smile, “Hey, you two. What can I get for you guys?”

David order his usual order of a hamburger with steak fries while Patrick opted for the meatloaf special, earning a jokingly concerned look from David.

Twyla nodded, “Ok, I’ll get those out to you soon. And um…”

 _Here it comes_ , David thought.

“I heard from Jocelyn what happened yesterday, at the store I mean, and I hope you guys are doing ok. If you need anything just let me know, all right? Oh, and dinner is on us tonight.” She gave them another toothy smile before making her way back to the kitchen pass.

David grinned, “So, I guess you were right.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow, “About what?”

David shrugged, “When you said there was no harm in people knowing. I guess I didn’t know that would include free meals.”

Patrick chuckled in agreement, sipping his water.

“But I think it’s kind of sweet. How much people care. You wouldn’t believe how many people came to the store today just to offer words of encouragement. Even _Ronnie_ said some _very_ nice things.”

He took a double take, “Wait, really?” Patrick said.

David nodded, “I was as surprised as you.”

Patrick looked down at his hands and David could make out the faintest smile creeping up on his lips. But then as if interrupted by a disturbing thought, the smile slowly faded and Patrick’s face became a little more stoic, “Listen, um…about last night.”

David had to hold back his instinct to wave it off in a good-natured way, but then immediately thought it best to just let him talk. He figured the conversation would inevitably steer itself into this.

“I had a lot of time to think about it today,” he continued, “and the truth is…I don’t know what happened. I can’t really remember what the dream was about, but I know it was about Rachel. This whole thing with Grant showing up and saying what he said…I just…” he let out a choked sigh, his voice wavering a little, “Part of me is scared that Rachel told Grant to do that…even though I know her and…I can’t see her doing something like that. But there’s still some small part of me that’s just saying, ‘but what if’, you know?”

The strain in Patrick’s voice became more and more noticeable as David nodded encouragingly, listening with rapt attention. His mind went to the phone number sitting in his contacts list under the ‘R’ column.

“I just feel defeated. Like Rachel has always been that one thing in my life that was left unresolved. But every time I try to talk to her it’s _painful_ , David. Because I’ve hurt her so many times and…it feels like no matter how hard I try to forget or let go of that part of my past, I just can’t.”

Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Twyla coming over with their food. He gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head, to which she immediately noticed and set the plates down on the counter.

Patrick buried his hands in his face, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I thought this was the best place to talk about this. I should’ve waited until we got home.”

“No, honey, look…this is _good_. I’m glad we’re talking about this.” David said assuredly, pulling Patrick’s hands away from his face and taking them in his own. “And I hear you. I understand. There are… _plenty_ of people in my past that I wish I had the courage to talk to them again and resolve those issues that were never resolved, but…it’s ok if you’re not up for it. You have to do those kinds of things on your own terms. When you’re ready.”

Patrick nodded slowly, taking in David’s words, “I’m just afraid that that day will never come. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

“Well, then that is something you have to learn to accept. And take it from me, it is not easy. But,” David leaned in ever so slightly, “you don’t have to do it alone.” he whispered as he stroked Patrick’s cheek with his thumb.

“I just need more time to figure this out. I’ll figure this out,” Patrick said assuredly. “But in the meantime, maybe you can let Twyla know she can bring that food over.”

David chuckled to himself, motioning to Twyla across the café who quickly brought their tray of food to the table, “Here you go guys. Enjoy.”

David muttered a word of thanks as both he and Patrick started to dig in. The conversation slowly began to drift away from Grant and Rachel as David started to ease the conversation over into other things. Patrick’s parents, their plans for the upcoming weekend, the higher than usual single day gross at the store, David scolding him playfully for continuing their _Criminal Minds_ binge without him there. David couldn’t help but notice how good it felt to settle back in to that familiar rapport.

They finished off dinner by sharing a slice of strawberry cheesecake and coffees before heading out to walk back home. The summer sun was setting slowly, casting the sky in faded reds and purples. The drone of the cicadas became incrementally more noticeable.

They walked slowly along the sidewalk with their fingers intertwined as their house eventually came into view. Patrick slowly came to a stop and considered it, still holding David’s hand in his own.

David smiled, “What is it?”

Patrick sighed, “You know, I don’t say it as often as I should…but getting this house with you was probably the third best decision I’ve made in my life.”

David cocked his head, “Third best?” He pulled Patrick closer and rested his arms on his shoulders as he smiled at him affectionately, “Do tell.”

He planted a cheek on David’s left cheek, “Well, second best was going into business with you,” another kiss on the right cheek, “and first best was proposing,” he said, brushing his lips against David’s before kissing him fully. David felt himself melting into the kiss, feeling the cool summer breeze brush his face softly as the smell of freshly cut grass seemed to encircle them.

“Was it _your_ decision, though?” David teased, pulling apart ever so slightly from their kiss.

Patrick seemed confused, “What?”

“Getting the house for us. Because if I remember correctly, _I_ was the one that put in the offer.”

“Hey, I was the one that got in touch with the previous owners.”

“But _I_ put in the offer, though,” he repeated.

“Ok, well do I need to remind you that you _actually_ didn’t—”

“Technicalities,” he said dismissively, “it’s the action that counts.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and gave him a defeated smile. “Sure, David. Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated! I love talking to you guys in the comments, I respond to everybody!
> 
> Chapter 6 will be up in a couple of days!
> 
> ArgoLane xx


	6. Chapter 6

David awoke with a start. It was still dark, and the same familiar whispering noise from last night was in their room again. But this time, David went straight to the source.

Patrick had somehow managed to kick the sheets off of the bed in his sleep. He was in nothing but pajama bottoms and David could see he was already coated in a sheen of sweat. David wasted no time in trying to repeat his tactic from last night, but the moment David put a hand on his shoulder, Patrick flinched.

“No! No, get off me, get off me,” he muttered furiously, his eyes screwed in what looked like a mixture of pain and panic.

“Patrick, it’s me. You need to wake—”

But Patrick flinched again when David tried to pull him up into a sitting position.

“No, no, no, please, don’t—”

“Patrick, wake up, honey, it’s me.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Please, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

David tried to hold him from behind, but Patrick continued to resist. His legs seemed to be pushing against the end of the bed as if someone had him by the ankles; his arms struggled against David.

“Wake up, Patrick. It’s ok, it’s me, I’m here. You’re safe. Wake up, wake—”

“No!” Patrick sat up suddenly, breathing heavily and hoarsely. 

“Patrick.” David whispered.

He looked at him. The room was still dark but the streetlight coming from the window was enough for David to make out his husband’s glassy eyes, reminding David miserably of the same look he gave him two days ago when Grant left the store. “You’re ok?” he asked in a strained voice.

“What?” David asked softly.

But instead of responding, Patrick closed his eyes and turned away, but not before David could see a tear streaking down his face.

“Oh, honey…” he whispered softly.

Patrick covered his eyes with a hand and let out a quiet sob. David got up and moved around the other side of the bed, kneeling down in front of Patrick at the foot of the bed, “Hey, hey. Patrick. Look at me.”

Patrick kept his eyes clenched and shook his head as more tears fell down his face. David rested his hands on Patrick’s knees, “Sweetheart, look at me,” he whispered.

It took some effort, but Patrick finally took his hand away from his eyes, wiping away the tears that coated his cheeks. David cupped his face in his hands, “Are you ok?” he asked quietly.

They stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like years, until Patrick finally conceded and whispered, “No.”

David nodded, “Ok. What do you need me to do?”

Patrick shook his head, more tears streamed quietly down his face, “I don’t know, David. I don’t know.”

“Ok. Do you want to talk about it? The dream?”

“It was about Grant.” Patrick said quietly. “He was…he came to the store again. But he was hitting me and…attacking me and yelling at me and then he…he went after you and I just…I couldn’t do anything about it, I couldn’t move, I was frozen and I couldn’t do anything, David, I couldn’t—”

“Ok, ok, it’s all right.” David pulled him into a tight hug and Patrick buried his face in David’s shoulder and let out another quiet sob, “I’m ok. You’re ok. We’re safe. I love you. You’re ok. I’m here. You’re ok,” he whispered.

It took every ounce of David’s strength not to break down himself as the lump in his throat was growing painfully. Patrick’s whole body seemed to shake, and David couldn’t do much but just hold onto him and let him ride it out. _Keep it together, David. Keep it together._

By the time Patrick’s crying subsided, the sun had slowly started to rise and the room was filled with a soft blue light. Rain started pattering against the windows and a roll of thunder rumbled the house. David didn’t know when it happened but he and Patrick had shifted so that Patrick’s head was resting on David’s lap as David ran his fingers gently through his hair. David’s back and legs were sore from sitting upright for that long but he didn’t dare move.

“David?”

“Hm?"

“I’m ready.”

“What’s that?” David asked softly.

Patrick sat up and rested against the headboard of the bed, his eyes red, “I’m ready. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” David said, joining him at the head of the bed.

“This. Waking us up in the middle of the night. Missing work. Not…not knowing what _happened._ I need to know if she had anything to do with this.”

David nodded slowly, taking Patrick’s hand in his own, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Patrick sighed, “I just need to figure out a way to get in touch with her.”

“I…might have a way to help.” David said.

…

They sat at the kitchen table together, their hands wrapped around their cups of coffee with David’s phone between them. Rachel’s contact page was open, and Patrick’s eyes were fixed on the screen, “How did you get this again?”

“Alexis. It’s a long story.”

Patrick pursed his lips, “You know, maybe It’s too early, I mean, maybe we should wait until tonight or—”

David inched the phone closer to him with a sympathetic smile, “I know it’s scary. But I promise you that you’re going to feel so much better once you know.”

“And…what if it turns out that—”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” David said softly. “We always do.”

Patrick nodded slowly, eyeing the phone like it was a ticking time bomb that would explode at any minute. David set aside his mug, “Do you want me to do it? To call her?”

He mulled it over before giving David a quick nod. David clicked the phone icon next to Rachel’s number and let it ring.

One ring…second ring…third ring…fourth…fifth…

_“Hey, it’s Rachel, leave a message!”_

Patrick let out a heavy breath that he had apparently been holding in. He shook his head vigorously, “I don’t think I can do this.” Patrick staggered up and away from the table, white knuckling the counter for support. His breathing was already getting incredibly shallow, “I don’t think I can do this, David.”

“Ok, ok, it’s fine.” David said, hurrying over to the counter.

“I can’t do it. I can’t—” Patrick took another heavy breath as if he was trying to catch it, “What if she did, what if she—I don’t know what I would do if—"

David grasped Patrick by the arms gently, “Ok, I understand. But right now, you need to focus on _breathing_. Ok? Just breathe.”

Patrick was nodding vigorously, and David could practically see him hanging off a cliff into another panic attack and doing the very best to hang on. He cupped Patrick’s face in his hands, “I know this is scary. And I’m not going to force you to do anything, but…knowing whether or not she _did_ have something to do with what Grant did is _far_ better than not knowing.”

Suddenly, the phone rang, and both of their eyes flitted between the table and each other. Patrick looked like he wanted to disappear into nothing, but David gave him an encouraging look, “You’re ready. I’m here. Ok?”

Patrick sighed heavily before walking over to the table. He picked up the phone, hit the speaker icon, and answered it, “Hello?”

 _“Hel—”_ the voice paused. _“Patrick?”_

“Yeah. H—hi, Rachel.”

_“Oh my god, it’s been so long.”_

“Yeah, it has.” Patrick answered stiffly.

_“We haven’t talked since the, uh—”_

“Barbeque. At the motel.”

_“Right. Right…”_

There was a deafening pause and David made a motion for Patrick to continue.

Patrick cleared his throat, “Listen, Rachel. I need to talk to you about something.”

_“Oh. Ok…?”_

“It’s about Grant.”

_“Grant? What about him?”_

Patrick let out a shaky sigh, “He, um…Do you know where he was Wednesday?”

_“I don’t know, we haven’t really been in touch recently. Why?”_

“He…he was in Schitt’s Creek.”

_“Wait, what?”_

“Yeah.”

_“What was he doing there?”_

And Patrick recounted the incident to her, telling her exactly what Grant had called him. His voice wavered a couple of times but David was surprised to see how well Patrick kept it together, not sure if he himself could relive that morning as calmy as Patrick was. After he had finished, there was only silence on the other line. They both eyed each other anxiously. There was a rustling on the other end and then Rachel cleared her throat, _“Is, um…is David there by chance?”_

Patrick gave David a worried glance, “Yeah, he’s right here, um…you’re on speaker.”

_“Ok. David?”_

David felt a tinge of discomfort, not knowing where this was going at all, “Hi…hi, Rachel.”

_“I need to apologize to you both. Like, from the bottom of my heart, I am so, so sorry for what my brother did. There’s no excuse for it, absolutely no excuse.”_

“So…you didn’t have anything to do with…” Patrick trailed off.

_“God, no, Patrick. I mean, I know we have a complicated past but I would never judge you for who you love. And I would never ask my brother to do something like that. I am just as shocked as you are.”_

There was a visible relief etched on Patrick’s face. “God, Rachel…you don’t know how good it is to hear that.”

_“I’m just so embarrassed, I can’t believe that he—I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, David.”_

David smiled, “Um…thank you, that—that really means a lot.”

_“Of course. And you guys have my word that this will never happen again.”_

Patrick smiled as well, “Thank you, Rachel. We really appreciate it.” He looked at David as he picked up the phone, “Do you mind if we…?” signaling to David that he wanted to speak privately.

David shook his head, “Oh, no, of course. Go ahead.”

Patrick got up, planted a kiss on David’s forehead, and disappeared up the stairs into their bedroom. David let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He could feel the anxiety that had broiled in his stomach for the past couple of days slowly fading away. Rachel not having anything to do with what Grant did didn’t surprise David in the slightest. Even though their one and only interaction was exceptionally brief, what Patrick had told him about her didn’t scream “downright homophobe” to him. But he didn’t dare try and promise Patrick anything, just on the off chance that he had misread Rachel entirely.

David knew from experience that validation like that could only get you so far in terms of getting over the trauma that came with being attacked like that. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but they had made significant headway. David felt an optimism in his chest that he hadn’t felt these past two days, and he knew that they were going to be ok.

…

_Patrick’s POV_

He shut the bedroom door behind him and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, you still there.”

_“Yeah, I’m here.”_

“Listen, I…I just wanted to thank you, like, personally for what you said. Especially to David. I know that couldn’t have been easy with…our history, and all of that.”

_“I’ve moved on, Patrick. And even though we’re not together, you will always have a special place in my heart.”_

Patrick nodded, feeling a lump start to rise in his throat, “You will too.”

_“I’m glad you’re happy. The last time we talked, I remember you saying that David…makes you feel right. And when you said that, it clicked for me, I don’t know. I’m just happy that you’re with someone that can offer you what I couldn’t. Like, truly happy.”_

He let out a heavy sigh, “You have…no idea what that means to me, Rach. Thank you.”

_“You take care of yourself, Patrick. I wish you…all the best.”_

The call ended and Patrick stood rooted to the spot, still holding the phone to his ear. He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He felt a flurry of emotions; loss, happiness, sorrow, longing…but also relief. Sheer and utter relief.

He made his way back down the stairs and saw David in the kitchen still sitting at the table. Patrick looked at him from the staircase, feeling that familiar tug in his stomach that happened every time he saw David. Patrick walked slowly toward him and David, noticing that he had returned from upstairs, stood up. 

“Is everything—” but before he could finish, Patrick took David’s face in his hands and kissed him, fully and with as much love and gratitude as he could muster.

David withdrew ever so slightly, giving him a look of concern “You’re crying.”

Patrick nodded, “It’s good tears.”

David smiled, “Is everything ok?:

“I’m happy. I’m relieved. And I love you so much,” Patrick said, emotion pulling at him.

“Oh,” said David, “well, then in that case…” and Patrick leaned in again, wrapping his arms around David; the two of them stood in the kitchen as the sound of rain and thunder continued to persist outside. Patrick held onto David, almost afraid that David would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. He wanted to stay like this, to hold the man that he loves, to hold the man that makes him feel safe, and warm, and wanted, and… _right,_ forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...how are we doing...?
> 
> I've still got one chapter left for you, lovely readers. 
> 
> Also, as a queer bisexual guy, I just wanted to say Happy Pride!! 
> 
> Comments and kudos loved and appreciated. I reply to all!
> 
> ArgoLane xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi dear readers.
> 
> Apologies for the wait! Final chapters always take me a little longer because I reeaally overthink and overedit them. I hope you enjoy.

“David, where are we going?” Stevie asked, breathing heavily as she climbed over a particularly large vine.

“Can’t tell you. After you spoiled Patrick’s birthday present last year, you lost the privilege of me ever confiding something to you for the foreseeable future.” David called back to her.

Stevie scoffed, “Then why am I even here if you’re not going to tell me what’s happening?”

“Because I’m not about to traverse a hiking path by myself, I’m not Earl Shaffer.”

The early morning sun beat down on them and David was instantly regretting wearing his heavy black leather shirt. The trees around them somewhat shielded them from the sun and offered spots of cool shade, but it didn’t do much to stifle the humidity of a Schitt’s Creek summer.

“Well, I hope you’re not trying to surprise Patrick with a heat stroke. Would put a real damper on your marriage.”

David turned back to her, “How do you know this is for Patrick?”

Stevie stared at him blankly, “Considering I’m your only real friend, do you really wanna get into the logistics of how I came to that conclusion?”

“Fair enough,” he said, turning back around and surveying the path ahead of him, looking for something that could further jog his memory. “I think we’re going the right way…” He sat down on a nearby rock and pulled out a water bottle, handing it to Stevie before he dug one out for himself.

“How’s he doing, by the way?” Stevie asked, as she sat next to him, “have things gotten better with the whole…?”

David mulled it over, thinking about the past couple of weeks, “I mean, comparably, yes.”

“Is he still having those panic attacks at night?”

“They’re getting less and less frequent. And it’s getting easier to calm him down from them. But I think that therapist he started seeing a couple of weeks ago in Elmdale is helping quite a bit. He has an appointment before we meet him for breakfast later.”

Stevie nudged him, “Well, I’m glad therapy is working out for _one_ of us.”

“When did _you_ go to therapy?”

She shook her head, “ _That_ is a story for another time, and for another setting. Preferably a bar.”

They sat there together under the shade, taking in the sounds of the forest. David is the first to admit that he is not an outdoorsy guy, but appreciating the outdoors is one of the many things that he started to try and embrace after meeting Patrick; the same way Patrick took after David by trying to implement a better skincare routine than just washing his face in the shower.

“And you haven’t heard from Rachel or her brother since?”

“Thankfully, no. But I feel better after Ronnie installed that Emergency Call button under the counter.”

“Do you feel better with everything else? It can’t be easy coping with all of this.”

There was no question that things have been messed up for both of them ever since Grant stepped foot in their store, but it was hard for David to embrace that for himself. “Patrick’s going through a lot more.” David said dismissively.

“Maybe. I just remember you saying a while ago that you felt, like, helpless.” Stevie said softly.

David’s gaze was fixated on the dirt path, “I mean, it’s hard not to feel like that the _majority_ of the time, sure. But we’re doing better.” 

Stevie seemed to be contemplating something, her hands drumming rhythmically on her knees. And then, as if deciding something right then and there, she stood, “Get up.”

David looked up at her, “I’m still resting, though.”

“ _David_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

He stood up, trying very poorly to show his reluctance. Stevie rested both of her hands on his shoulders, “I’m gonna say something that I don’t say to a lot of people.”

David winced, “I’m scared.”

Stevie brushed him off, “I don’t care if you believe me, or if you think you didn’t do anything to deserve what I’m about to tell you…but I’m _proud_ of you. Like…really fucking proud.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, and David smiled to himself. He wasn’t about to pretend that Stevie ever says the _wrong_ thing to him, but as always, she told him exactly what he needed to hear.

They broke apart and Stevie started immediately fanning herself, “Ok, let’s keep moving, it’s hot as fuck out here.”

...

The café was packed with the normal breakfast rush when David and Stevie walked in to meet Patrick, who was already sitting at their booth. He got up as David approached the table to kiss him, “Hey. What kept you guys?”

David glanced sideways at Stevie as they both sat down, “We were just talking, hanging out…at the motel.” He took a nervous sip of the coffee that Patrick had order for him.

Stevie nodded encouragingly, “Yeah, yeah at the motel.”

Patrick smiled mirthfully at them, “Really? About what?”

“Oh, just, you know…” David immediately tried to brush him off, “gossiping about the guests and such.”

Stevie nodded again, “Yeah, gossip. One of the guests tried to order a hooker to his room but then she came to the desk instead and—” she laughed awkwardly, nudging David to join her, who may have overdone it a little bit as his forced laugh earned a couple of questioning looks from people at the neighboring tables. He made a mental note to teasingly reprimand Stevie later for her inability to improvise.

Patrick eyed the two of them, “What the hell is going on?” He seemed both intrigued and thoroughly amused.

Stevie, to no surprise, gave up, “I don’t know, he didn’t tell me.”

David gave her the coldest look he could muster, while Stevie just shrugged, “What’s the point, he knows something’s up.”

David scowled, taking another sip of his coffee.

Patrick chuckled, “Ok, ok, I won’t ask anything else.” 

Twyla made her way over and quickly took their orders, looking a little more flustered than usual. David and Patrick’s egg and toast platter arrived in no time, along with Stevie’s omelet and fruit cup. The three of them bantered back and forth for a while until Stevie slid her plate aside, “So, how’d therapy go today?”

David felt the air shift and quickly wondered whether Patrick was up to having a conversation about something as private as therapy. But, to his surprise, the question didn’t seem to put him off at all.

“Oh, it went ok. Dr. Cornell is really great.” Patrick said simply. 

Stevie gave him a small smile, “That’s good. How often are you guys meeting?”

“Well, it used to be weekly, but she said that I could do every other week. If I wanted to, that is.”

David had looked up from his plate now, hearing this for the first time, “Do you want to?”

Patrick shrugged, “I feel like I could do it, but…I’m not sure.”

“What’s stopping you?” Stevie asked sincerely, something David rarely heard her be.

“I don’t know, the whole anxiety thing just comes and goes, and it helps to talk it out every week.” Patrick said. He pushed aside his plate, “But the other part of me wants to challenge myself and see if I could handle it more independently.”

It didn’t surprise David to hear this, and by the looks of it, neither did Stevie. It seemed very in-character for Patrick to want to take control over something like anxiety, something that is notoriously hard to control and put in a box. While David was trying to concoct an appropriate response in his head, Stevie seemed to know exactly what to say, “Screw that.”

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows, “Pardon?”

“As someone who’s dealt with her fair share of this kind of stuff…get all the help you can get. Don’t _challenge_ yourself like it’s a game of baseball. Take the time you need and talk to the people who help.” Stevie said, as if she had been preparing to say this all morning. Patrick seemed to be slightly taken aback by the degree of her insistence and turned his attention to David, “What do you think?”

“I agree.” David said almost too quickly. “Keep the weekly appointments if it helps you. Our insurance covers it, so it’s a win-win.”

Patrick smiled and looked down at the table, “I know I can be a hard-ass sometimes, so you guys are probably right.”

“Oh, we know.” Stevie said flashing him a grin as she finished off the rest of her coffee. She grabbed her satchel, “Alright, I’m late for work and there’s only so long I can leave Carol alone before she starts deleting random bookings on the computer again.” And with a quick goodbye, Stevie left the café.

“We should probably get going too.” Patrick said, glancing down at his watch and putting down cash on the table. He paused and pointed at the door Stevie had just left through, “She didn’t pay her food.”

“Oh, I’m sure that was pre-meditated.” David said, digging out an extra $10 bill out of his wallet.

…

The workday ran like any other day (or at least most days), and David had since learned to embrace the predictability of a normal day at the store. During the slower hours of the workday, he often thought back to when they first opened and how anxious he was at the thought of interacting with people and just doing his best to put on his best customer service voice to help them find what they needed. The confidence had always been in the products, but it was severely lacking in himself as a storeowner and businessman. Ever since Moira had dropped the bomb on the reality of David’s experience as a gallerist, his sense of bravado in running a business needed to be built from the ground up. And, like many other things, he had Patrick to thank for that.

Ok, he wasn’t going to give him all the credit for it. But it was an undeniable fact that if Patrick wasn’t as patient as he was and taught David the ins and outs of running the store in a way that he could understand, he wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable in the world of retail as he is now. It wasn’t like he had _no_ knowledge of selling things to people, but the shift from selling abstract neoclassical art that was made more often than not by extremely narcissistic and eccentric people was _much_ different than selling face masks and plants to the normal layman.

And yet, lately his mind was also on Patrick, whose mood could change on a dime or his energy could be suddenly drained if he didn’t pace himself throughout the day. David recognized the symptoms, but he didn’t want to tell Patrick his suspicions until they got the official diagnosis of generalized panic disorder from his therapist. At first, Patrick was reluctant to talk about it until it was starting to affect their dynamic with each other.

“David, I don’t need help cooking dinner. How many times have I cooked you dinner since we’ve been together?”

“Ok, I just noticed the faint smell of burning wafting from the kitchen and I just wanted to make sure we still had a dinner to cook.”

“It’s just the burner, it’s too hot. Maybe _you_ dropped a piece of food in there this morning when you were making pancakes.”

“But the food’s burning, hon. I can literally see it turning black.”

“David, I told you I have it under control!”

After that they vowed to communicate to each other how they were feeling as much as they could. And it helped…a lot.

“David, I can feel you looking at me like a wounded puppy. I’m ok.”

And other times it seemed maybe just a little unnecessary.

“I’m awake.”

“Ok?”

“I feel good.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. It is…”

 _But I guess this is what marriage is_ , David thought. Constantly adapting to each other’s needs, thorugh sickness and in health and all of that. And he didn’t mind one bit, it just took some time for both of them to find their footing.

6:00 came quickly and the two of them started their closing routine. Patrick poked his head out from the back room as David was wiping down the counter, “What’re you thinking for dinner? Café? Make something at home?”

David smiled to himself. He’d been waiting all day for this.

“I have some alternative plans.”

Patrick cocked his head, “With Stevie?”

“Nope. With you,” he said glibly, “just someplace elsewhere.”

Patrick nodded knowingly , “Oh, is this the, uh ‘surprise’ you were trying to keep from me this morning?” he said with a grin.

David stowed away the last of the cleaning supplies and flipped around the open sign, waiting for him by the door, “Perhaps. But we do have to go home first.”

The drive home was quiet but the atmosphere in the small car was bombalating with Patrick’s excitement, who kept stealing telling glances at David as if maybe he could glean some sort of hint in his face as to what he had in store for the two of them. They were home within minutes, but David told Patrick to wait in the car while he hurried inside the house to get something. He hurried up to their bedroom and pulled out the two hiking backpacks that he and Stevie used this morning and quickly filled them both with the tupperware of food he stowed away in the fridge, along with a bottle of wine and some insect repellant.

He liked the drama of it, the secrecy of what he had in store (even if Patrick already knew something was up). David snuck around the end of the car so Patrick couldn’t see him in the rearview mirror as he stowed away the backpacks in the trunk.

David opened the driver’s door dramatically, “Out. I’m driving,” he said with a mischievous smile.

Patrick’s eyebrows raised, “Oh, _now_ I’m terrified.”

“Hilarious.”

David wondered if Patrick would figure out what he was up to before he wanted him to. After passing the town sign (that David still cringed at, as he did not have _any_ say in someone painting his likeness on a road sign) they passed another, slightly smaller sign that read: “Elm Valley Campgrounds”. Patrick, to David’s chagrin, still hadn’t put two and two together.

“Are you…taking me camping?”

“Um, I’m gonna do us both a favor and not get into how much that suggestion throws our entire marriage into question.”

“Well, I thought we were going somewhere to eat dinner.”

David shrugged, “What do you think is in the trunk?”

“Oh, we’re having a picnic?”

And then David could practically hear Patrick’s brain finally connect all the dots, the last piece of the puzzle slotting into place.

“What’s the date?” Patrick asked.

David couldn’t help himself, “What do _you_ think the date is?”

“Is it June 29th?”

“Why yes, it is,” he answered with a grin.

…

They both sat together on the picnic blanket, looking out at the view in front of them. The evening sun had started to set, and the sky was painted in light pinks and dark blues while a pleasant summer breeze rustled the trees above and around them. Both of their stomachs were full of cheese and crackers, sandwiches, fruit, and a delicious red wine, only leaving a small container of celery and carrots untouched.

Their fingers were intertwined, and David had his head resting in the nook between Patrick’s neck and shoulder. For a long while they were silent, relishing the breezy weather, the smell of the trees, and the company of the other. But it was a comfortable silence, the kind you could sit in with another person and just be content. David had to admit that he couldn’t think of anyone else that he could share that kind of silence with.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Patrick muttered, “but I’m extremely impressed you managed to find this spot all by yourself.”

“Mm, I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.” David answered softly, “but I had help, I was test running it with Stevie this morning.”

Patrick chuckled, “But you know, I would’ve been just as happy with a special dinner at home. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Of course I did,” he answered simply. “One year ago, you changed our lives. We’re like three feet away from where you were on one knee and I was a blubbering mess.”

“A cute blubbering mess,” Patrick pointed out with a peck on the cheek.

“But a blubbering mess all the same. And you told me this is where you went when you started having feelings for me, so…this kind of feels like the place where everything started for us.” David looked at him and, like so many other times, found himself getting lost in Patrick’s chocolate brown eyes. The chocolate brown eyes of the man he married with no hesitation, no preamble, no holds barred. It was an easy decision, but one that changed his life.

“So, are we making regular trips up here for more anniversaries? Like our wedding anniversary in two months?” Patrick said, breaking him out of his trance.

“Unless you want to have a picnic in the middle of town hall, _this_ ,” he said gesturing to the view in front of them, “seems monumentally preferable.”

“That’s true. That’s true,” Patrick nodded, seeming to trail off as he stared out at the setting sun. David watched him, recommitting every detail of his face to memory. His eyes seemed to almost glaze over and David’s eyebrows furrowed. He nudged him softly, “Hey.” Patrick raised an eyebrow in response. “Where’d you go?”

Patrick shook his head, “Nothing. Nowhere. I just realized that I haven’t thanked you.”

David rolled his eyes in amusement, “You don’t have to thank me for this.”

“No, not the picnic. I mean, the picnic is great. I love that you did this for us. I meant like…I haven’t thanked you for the last couple of weeks. What you’ve done for us. For me.” Patrick sighed emotionally, wringing his hands together. “I know this hasn’t been easy. Like for our marriage. So, thank you. For being there…and being patient.”

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the stars were slowly coming into focus against the dark blue sky. David brushed his thumb against Patrick’s cheek affectionately, his chest swelling as he realized just how in _love_ he was with the person in front of him. He swallowed the emotion in his throat as his eyesight was starting to get just a little glassy.

“I learned from the best.”

Patrick smiled subtly and he leaned forward until their lips met, passionately but gently as the last edges of the sun slipped away, bathing the two men in soft moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that.
> 
> Thank you for sticking this out with me. I hope this final chapter wrapped this up for you all.
> 
> After taking a long hiatus, Schitt's Creek is what brought me back to writing and I had so much fun working on this project, and it's been very, very therapeutic. 
> 
> I have some more SC ideas on the books, so you'll probably see more stuff in the future. I'm mulling over a story that's strictly from Patrick's POV or maybe even a David and Patrick alternating POV. We'll see. 
> 
> Comment, kudos, and sharing with friends is very very appreciated. 
> 
> Love you all,  
> ArgoLane xx


End file.
